


Chapter Fourteen - Warmth

by afreezingnote



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Blood and Injury, Canon Era, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Magical Artifacts, Mistaken Identity, Post-Magic Reveal, Round Robin, Sharing a Bed, The Round Table Round Robin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28156605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afreezingnote/pseuds/afreezingnote
Summary: The battle is finally won. The aftermath involves recovery, revelations, and hope for romance.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 102
Collections: Merlin Round Table Round Robin





	Chapter Fourteen - Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> This is chapter fourteen of the [Merlin Round Table Round Robin,](https://roundtableroundrobin.tumblr.com/) a collaborative storytelling project organized by tehfanglyfish.
> 
> Excerpts are quoted from the [previous chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Merlin_Round_Table_Round_Robin/works/27975580) by achrilock. Check out the [ao3 collection](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Merlin_Round_Table_Round_Robin) to view all the entries.
> 
> Edited and brit-picked by the matchless Lawless_bard. Any mistakes left are my own. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and make no profit from this work save fun. If this story appears anywhere other than Archive of Our Own, it has been reposted without my consent.

A dead warlock could not use magic. The unexpected proof of life galvanised Arthur again into action. He fumbled beneath his chainmail to unbuckle his belt. Once he had freed the leather, he slipped it painstakingly under Merlin’s back, situating it so that he could lash the strips of cloth he’d pressed to Merlin's wound in place after he removed the dagger.

As he worked, the druids began to filter back into the room. Some of them went to tend to Iseldir. Though many of them watched Arthur’s efforts, none of them moved to interfere. That was to the good. He knew he should not resent their flight in the face of danger. Citizens should never have to fight for the realm like knights. Still, he felt bitter about the concession and had no energy for politesse.

Several druids nearest to him spoke as he rose, but Arthur paid no heed to their voices.

******* **  
**

Arthur carried Merlin out of the ballroom, unconscious and spilling golden light from beneath his eyelids. He walked the path to the Physician’s Tower with muscle memory guiding his steps. After the series of shocks he’d endured in the course of battling the frobana, his mind had no room for anything but the urgent need to confirm Merlin’s well-being.

He held a conversation with Gaius from that distant place as he set Merlin down on the cot, not knowing the words he uttered but counting the number of Merlin’s breaths.

Gaius undid the makeshift tourniquet and peeled away the bandages it had held in place along with the remnants of Merlin’s tunic and leathers, ready to treat the wounds Arthur described, but Merlin’s chest bore no evidence of the scratches he’d clawed into his own skin or the stab wound that had left crimson stains on the floor, their clothing, and Arthur’s hands.

Arthur lifted Merlin’s hand from the cot. Where his palm and fingers ought to be mutilated from gripping a bare sword, there was only unblemished flesh.

“I don’t understand,” Arthur said. Registering his own confused voice at last dragged his thoughts into the present. “He was bleeding out moments ago. I saw him plunge a dagger into his heart. How can this be?”

Gaius hesitated to answer. “I don’t know how much you and Merlin have been able to talk since all this began,” he said, “but he is special even among our kind.”  
  
“He’s Emrys,” Arthur said.

“Yes, and what exactly that means is unknown to all but the Goddess,” Gaius said. He pulled a blanket over Merlin’s prone form. “But I have seen him recover from injuries and dangers I swore were fatal many times before. His magic has done wonders I never imagined possible.”

“Does that mean you think he’s alright?”

“As far as I can tell, he is only sleeping,” Gaius said. “I can merely guess what internal damage might have resulted from the possession, and his power is still active. Likely he is healing himself. For now, all we can do is wait.”

*******

Arthur had not budged from Merlin’s bedside when the midnight bell tolled. With a few cracks and pops of weary bones, Gaius rose from his place across the room. He had kept his hands busy working on remedies through their shared vigil. Arthur had kept his own hands clasped around Merlin’s still, warm palm, unwilling to let go of that tether and hoping it might lend Merlin a guide back into the waking world. 

“An old man needs his rest, sire,” Gaius said. He laid a comforting hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “And so do kings.”

“I won’t leave him.”

“Then take him to your chambers if it means you will sleep. Exhausting yourself doesn’t help Merlin.”

“It’s safe to move him?” Arthur asked.

“It should be,” Gaius said. “I will stop by to check on him first thing in the morning.”

Arthur nodded, released Merlin’s hand for the first time in hours, and shook out the stiffness in his limbs before scooping Merlin into the crook of his arms. “Goodnight, Gaius,” he said.

Gaius had moved to the door as Arthur picked Merlin up, and he held it open for them now. “Goodnight, sire,” Gaius said.

Arthur looked at Merlin cradled against his shoulder. Framed below the wild tumult of his curls, the glow of the magic seeping from Merlin’s eyes lit his face, throwing his cheekbones into sharp contrast. The devastating beauty of the man in his arms gave Arthur pause, and he allowed himself a moment to nuzzle his nose against the crown of that dear head before making his way carefully to his own rooms.

*******

Finding the bedding pulled down sent a wash of gratitude through Arthur as he lay Merlin on the mattress. Slipping Merlin’s legs beneath the sheets and arranging him in a comfortable position proved simpler than he’d anticipated.

A servant, probably George, had also left his nightshirt draped over the privacy screen. He pulled the blankets over Merlin and went to change his clothes. As he turned back to the bed, Arthur saw the same ball of light Merlin had conjured and strengthened to drive off the frobana the first early morning before Iseldir had told them what creature they had fought.

The light spun suspended over the spot where Merlin’s hand would lay beneath the blankets. It began to drift as Arthur drew near. He sat cross-legged on the bed and peered at the shining sphere now hovering level with his chest. Curiosity drove him to cup the orb in his palms, and he immediately felt his consciousness sink into a familiar embrace. He didn’t get the chance to savour the comfort of Merlin’s magic as the silvery blue fog in his mind’s eye shifted and he saw an endless plain shrouded in swirling shadows. All that broke the infinite sky was a light overhead and a circle of cloaked, floating forms. Arthur understood remotely that he was seeing from Merlin’s eyes, and, worse still, Merlin was surrounded by frobanas.

Shock overwhelmed the fear that had taken root in the pit of his stomach as an unmistakable laugh rang above the whistling wind.

_“They still think they can save you, you know,” said a low, resonant, and mocking disembodied voice. “Even now my son abandons his better judgment and his training rather than doing what he knows he must.”_

Horror gripped him as he watched the whole scene play out, listened to his father lay out his plans to exact vengeance for the slights he perceived against his kingdom, his authority. Had Uther always been this monstrous? His father had often been cruel, but Arthur couldn’t remember a time when his voice had dripped such naked malice.

Uther’s final judgement repeated in his thoughts as the Merlin from this vision observed Arthur’s own memories from the ballroom. _“Arthur has failed in his duty. He has failed completely. Everything I ever taught him was for nothing! Everything I ever gave to him he has squandered!”_

Of all the lies Uther had uttered in life, this falsehood delivered from beyond the grave stung the most keenly. Arthur had given his all—blood, sweat, and soul—in service to Camelot. Since Morgana had ceased her hostile advances, the kingdom had prospered in trade and agriculture. A more balanced tax plan, designed not to exploit only the most needy citizens, had boosted the economy to heights unseen since Arthur was a teenager. There was less crime and fewer executions. 

Arthur had made changes, certainly, but the Camelot he was shaping now was one he wanted to live in, one he had dreamed of building from boyhood. He had squandered nothing. Uther’s bargain with the frobana revealed as much as a commander’s war map would divulge about a battle, and Arthur read it just as deftly, seeing his father as he never had before.

Once, he would have taken being called his father’s son as a compliment, but this man, unmasked, was not a person Arthur wanted to mirror in his own legacy.

The scene in the vision morphed into another image he recognised as deep in the Darkling Woods. Arthur watched Merlin deliver the jewel he had forged with his love to the druids, felt Merlin’s senses come alive as he reentered his body, and looked dizzily into his own eyes as Merlin’s awareness faded, the vision dissolving with it.

For a moment, Arthur could only stare at the empty place in his hands where the orb had perched with his jaw slack. Instinct told him what he had just witnessed was truly what Merlin had experienced during the battle. The greatest part of him marveled at Merlin’s strength, but he couldn’t help the coil of grief that squeezed his lungs. 

Becoming the man and the king Uther had wanted him to be had driven Arthur for so long. The slightest praise from Uther’s lips or the suggestion that an action would make him proud urged Arthur to try harder, to excel. He’d often felt that he fell short. But the likeness he’d held up as a standard had crumbled before him, and, like shoddy masonry, he knew it had never been solid. Acknowledging that, accepting his father as unworthy, was a loss—a second death. This time, Arthur had nothing to bury. Only history could serve as a mausoleum to his father’s reputation.

With the disappearance of the orb, the magical glow emanating from beneath Merlin’s lashes vanished as well. Merlin’s nose twitched and he grumbled before rolling over, his hand flying out as if in search of something. 

Arthur twined their fingers together, and Merlin quieted as he burrowed his cheek deeper into the pillow. Arthur had spent enough chilly nights on patrol with Merlin’s bedroll spread to overlap his, sharing space and body heat, to know Merlin remained the slightest bit wriggly even in rest. The signs of Merlin’s normal sleeping patterns drained away tension he hadn’t been aware he’d held in his muscles. He loosed a long sigh and laid down, at last at ease enough to join Merlin in slumber.

*******

Sunshine streamed in from the window, waking Arthur as he gradually overheated beneath the covers. The fleeting irritation he felt at having forgotten to draw the curtains passed when he noticed Merlin curled against him.

Arthur took up the corner of the top blanket and flicked his wrist back and forth, trying to gather up enough momentum to work it off his legs with minimal movement, not wanting to wake Merlin. He succeeded in removing the cover with Merlin undisturbed and still using his chest as a pillow. Arthur’s lips curved into a soft smile as he observed his sleeping companion. Over the years, Merlin had grown from a bright and boisterous boy to a man prone to the serious and somber. That time melted out of his slumbering features.

Merlin finally stirred as Arthur carded his fingers through Merlin’s hair.

“Good morning, Merlin,” Arthur greeted.

After a string of incoherent grumblings, Merlin responded, “Arthur? What happened? Where—” He broke off as he noticed his surroundings. “We did it? We won?”

“We won,” Arthur said. “The frobana is gone. You defeated it and saved Camelot again.”

“How is everyone else? Iseldir was injured, and I didn’t see everything that happened from—oh, gods, Arthur, I know who’s responsible for all this.”

Arthur put a finger to his lips to forestall Merlin’s rush of words. “I know,” he said. “Last night you did something with your magic and showed me what happened. I heard all that my father said to you. As for everyone else, there was nothing as pressing to my attention as you. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow sceptically.

Merlin sat up and scooted backwards to rest against the headboard. “Really I am,” he insisted. 

“Gaius will be up to check on you.”

Merlin hummed in acknowledgment. “What am I even doing here?” he asked.

Arthur wondered how he should answer. He could tell Merlin how he had refused to be parted from him. He could utter those three words that had ached in his heart and his throat for so long now. He could make an evasive excuse about the comfort of the royal bed. 

The thought of changing their relationship made his stomach swoop with equal amounts of anxiety and excitement. He had regretted his reticence in the awful stretch of time where he thought he would have to say goodbye to Merlin forever. He wanted much for them. Most of all, he knew Merlin deserved to understand exactly what he meant to Arthur. At the moment, no words seemed adequate.

He pushed himself up and shuffled until he was kneeling in front of Merlin. He hesitated only a second before leaning forward to capture Merlin’s lips, letting the kiss do the talking. Merlin responded immediately and fervently, welcoming Arthur into his sweet mouth. Their tongues brushed delicately a couple of times before Merlin withdrew, pressing a hand to Arthur’s sternum, not pushing him away but halting further action.

After their accidental hand holding, the unprecedented amount of blushing, and the kisses Arthur had peppered him with once he’d expelled the frobana, Merlin felt it was safe to assume that Arthur returned his feelings. This kiss only confirmed it. But duty deflated the elation he felt over their requited love. 

“Arthur, what are we doing?” Merlin asked. His face was a study of caution and regret. “You told me not to say anything because you’re promised to someone.”

“I am,” Arthur said. A luminous, joyful grin spread across his face. “You’re my betrothed.”

Surprise and confusion registered in the lines around Merlin's eyes. “Funny that,” he remarked. “I don’t remember you asking me to marry you.”

Arthur chuckled and settled next to Merlin. Their arms and thighs pressed together. “We’ve fallen into an arranged marriage, it seems. After the delegation first arrived, Iseldir and a few of the other druid elders requested a private audience,” he explained.

_Arthur had asked the guards to show the druid elders to his solar. Uther had formerly occupied the rooms, but rather than moving into the King’s Quarters himself, Arthur used the space as a private council chamber._

_A scarce handful of minutes passed between Arthur’s arrival and the knock at the door. “Enter,” he called._

_Arthur studied the druids as they filed into the room, forming a loose semi-circle as they stopped before him. Their leader, a blond man with a cloud of curly hair, he recognised from previous encounters._

_“King Arthur,” the leader greeted. “I’m Iseldir. We’ve met before.” He gestured to each of his companions as he introduced them._

_The bald man to his left with the salt and pepper beard and what appeared to be a carved boar’s tusk hanging from his neck was their healer, Fergus. Next to Fergus, a red-haired woman wearing an intricate plait was Teresa, one of their teachers. The oldest member of their small party stood to Iseldir’s right. The woman, who had her long grey hair pulled back with a leather cord, leaned on a stout staff topped with a snarl of twigs._

_“This is Aislin. She is a seer,” Iseldir said. “We have come to make a request.”_

_Aside from the seer’s staff, which Arthur supposed was more magical artifact than walking stick, he could discern nothing suspicious in the druids’ appearance or garb. He detected no concealed weapons beneath their handmade clothes, not that he had honestly expected any._

_“I welcome you all to Camelot. I hope to have many fruitful discussions,” Arthur said. He waved a hand to the circular table behind him, a smaller, more modest sister to the grand one in the Great Hall. “Please sit down.”_

_Once they were all settled, Arthur asked, “What’s your request?”_

_“Iseldir may keep his tact, but I will not bandy pretty words,” Aislin said. “It is a demand, Arthur Pendragon. Your answer will determine the conclusion of these negotiations before they’ve begun. Consider carefully.”_

_“Aislin,” Teresa admonished._

_Iseldir extended a hand toward Aislin and tapped the tabletop once noiselessly. Arthur couldn’t judge if the gesture signaled a placation, a rebuke, or both._

_“We ask for a show of good faith,” Iseldir said. “As with any accord between peoples, we must seek ties to bind us together. There can be no greater commitment to the peace between us than a marriage union. By agreeing to a match, you will demonstrate your sincerity and investment with regard to these proceedings.”_

_“A marriage?” Arthur asked, stunned._

_“Yes,” Iseldir said. “Will you consider the proposal?”_

_Of all the possible appeals in the world, a marriage agreement was the last thing Arthur had anticipated from the druids. “Who would you have me wed?” he asked._

_“You are but one half of a whole, Arthur Pendragon,” Aislin said “You will wed the one who was born for you: Emrys, the greatest warlock to walk the earth.”_  
  
_Arthur struggled to maintain professional decorum as conflicting emotions warred within him, clamouring for attention. “If I decline?” he asked._

_“There will be a not insignificant number among us who will view your rejection of Emrys as a rejection of all magic regardless of your words,” Fergus said._

_Aislin laughed. “You cannot refuse your own soul.”_

_The druids certainly pulled no punches when delivering information. Few conversations had challenged Arthur’s ability to process and compartmentalise difficult situations like this one. What the hell did that even mean about his soul? How could declining an offer of marriage amount to rejecting magic so thoroughly that the summit would fall apart as a result?_

_“What you ask is a steep price,” Arthur said. “I have vowed only to marry for love.”_

_“Love may bloom in unexpected places,” Teresa said._

_The conciliation did little to help Arthur’s frantic thoughts._

_“Perhaps it is selfish to hang onto a naïve ideal, but I—” Arthur stopped himself. If he should say those words, they should belong to Merlin alone. “There is someone.”_

_“You must determine your priorities,” Fergus said. “Will you let your personal desires trump your hopes for your kingdom?”_

_Arthur delayed responding as long as he dared, but no matter how he approached it, the request boiled down to a yes or no answer. As much as it hurt, he knew Merlin would never forgive him if he chose him at the risk of these agreements. The awaited negotiations and legal changes of the peace accords signaled what Arthur considered the most significant work of his kingship. He would not forgive himself if he led them to ruin before they’d even begun._

_“I won’t pretend to understand all of what you’ve said,” Arthur admitted. “I don’t comprehend the significance of this request to your people, but I must be a king before I’m a man.”_

_“Then you accept? You will marry Emrys?” Iseldir asked._

_“I’ll marry Emrys.”_

_Around the table, the druids all look pleased._

_“A wise decision,” Aislin said._

_That remains to be seen, Arthur thought. It didn’t feel like a wise decision. He couldn’t imagine any circumstances where he didn’t regret the lost opportunity to follow his heart, where Merlin’s presence at his side would inspire anything but yearning._

_“Before we go,” Iseldir began as he reached beneath his cloak, producing a drawstring bag, “we have two gifts for you. One will aid you along the path to fulfilling your destiny and the other will help you protect it.”_

_“My destiny?”_

_Iseldir looked to Aislin, sending a silent question. Aislin shook her head. “It is not ours to tell him,” she said._

_Iseldir nodded in acceptance. He extended his hand to offer Arthur the bag. The object within it felt heavier than it ought to have been, and he had to resist the urge to look inside at once. He blinked away the sensation and forced himself to concentrate on Iseldir’s words._

_“I can tell you this is a precious and priceless artifact. You must keep it safe,” Iseldir said. He held out a small metal item next. Arthur took it and was puzzled to see it was a key. He turned it in his palm, finding one side cast in bronze and the other side gold. “To that end, this key is unique. It will grant an enchantment to whatever lock it is first used in, rendering it impenetrable to all except the most powerful magic.”_

_Questions about destiny and the gift rattled at Arthur’s teeth, but he knew he’d likely get nowhere asking them. He mustered his best diplomatic courtesy. “Thank you,” he said. “Is Emrys part of the delegation? Will I meet—” Arthur faltered, pushing down the painful emotions that threatened to choke him, “—my betrothed?”_

_“Emrys does not live among us,” Fergus said._

_“But you will find him when the time is right,” Teresa said. “You must seek him with an open heart.”_

_“What will be will be. We have said enough on these matters. Let us go,” Aislin said. She stood and the others followed suit._

_“Thank you for your time, King Arthur,” Iseldir said. “I look forward to the work of legalising magic with you.”_

Arthur concluded his recounting of the meeting without going into what had happened once the druid elders left. Merlin already knew Arthur had looked into the jewel, which had shown him the hidden history of Merlin’s magic. They had more to discuss, and Arthur had plans to facilitate that conversation with more pleasant pursuits—a walk through the orchard to the grove of conifers on the far side of the mill pond and a picnic, perhaps, if the weather permitted. 

But for now, with the biggest of their secrets revealed, Arthur was content to savour the warmth from the body next to him, from the tendrils of fondness dancing around his heart, and from the sunlight heralding a lovely day, which suggested winter might finally start to lose its grasp to spring. 

He draped an arm around Merlin’s shoulders. “You don’t object to being engaged to me, do you?” Arthur prompted.

“Of course not,” Merlin said, shooting him an incredulous glance. “But we haven’t even gotten to talk.”

“We will,” Arthur promised.

“I want an actual proposal,” Merlin said. “Don’t think you can get out of it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

*******

Gaius found nothing wrong with Merlin during his visit but recommended further rest to ensure he recuperated fully from the large expenditure of magical energy over the last two days. Merlin tried to protest, but a raised eyebrow from Gaius accompanied by a concerned glare from Arthur garnered frustrated capitulation. Not long after Gaius departed, Merlin fell asleep again, proving the advice necessary. Arthur shut the curtains around the bed, hoping to prevent the light from disturbing Merlin.

When George arrived, Arthur had never been more relieved to see him. The man’s strict professionalism ensured there would be no danger of gossip even though Arthur saw him cast an odd glance at the drawn curtains. He made no comments but pleasantries as he delivered breakfast and Arthur’s morning correspondence. The reports would bring a new schedule for the discussions and a reminder of ill news already callously delivered in the veil.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is always welcome. If you'd like any additional tags included or spot any errors, please let me know, and I'll update asap.
> 
> This has been such a cool project to be a part of, and I can't wait to see where the story goes next! PS: To my successor, I'm sorry to leave the issue of our late fictional friend Tobyn to you. I hope you can forgive me.
> 
> [Next Chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Merlin_Round_Table_Round_Robin/works/28362891)


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